


Sympathy

by Leni



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hospital visit.</p>
<p>Or, Marshall Gets Hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TheFannishWaldo at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/142817.html?thread=30460385#t86032609). Prompt: **In Plain Sight, Mary/Marshall, Marshall's good, but he can't stop a beating from six dedicated gang members.**

Sympathy.

Mary mumbled the word to herself as she caught sight of her partner. She had to be _sympathetic_ right now. She could grill him over his stupidity later, when Marshall didn't look as if he'd been run over by a truck. 

Six times.

"Hey," she said as she approached the hospital bed. He looked asleep, but Mary knew better. Unless they'd sedated him - and he didn't have any IV connected - Marshall wouldn't relax enough. "Heard you had a tough day at the office."

Her voice seemed to rouse him, and his lips curved into a small smile before a wince stopped him short. His eyes opened, but when Marshall focused on her, he closed them shut again. "Doc was wrong," he muttered, "this concussion's gonna be the last of me."

"Marshall?"

"Obviously, I'm hallucinating." And before Mary could get worried enough to call for the closest nurse at hand, he added, "Mary _never_ would wear Hello Kitty pajamas-"

If there was a spot on him that wasn't bruised or swollen, Mary would have gladly swatted at it. "You wretch. If you must know, it's Brandi's," she lied. Her sister _had_ given it to her, after all, and Mary had kept it because on cold nights warm clothes were nice. She could survive an excess of pink, and it wasn't as if there'd been many choices on this particular Saturday night...

"Laundry day caught up with you again?"

He knew her too well. Mary grunted. "Not all of us can devote ourselves to our wardrobe." 

Marshall answered with a chuckle, and both pretended it hadn't come out as a weak rasp. "I'll need an edge, these coming days."

Mary looked him over - he'd be lucky if that gash along his cheek didn't scar; the busted lip wasn't doing him any favors, either - and reminded herself that he was already lucky enough to be alive. "You could have used that edge earlier. Six at the same time - seriously?"

The 'you, idiot' was implied.

"I could fight them, or I could let them kill me," he said, oh so reasonably.

Mary took a deep breath not to snap about getting the hell out of there or, if needed, shooting a couple of them to make his way out. Their superiors held to the belief that she was the headstrong one in this partnership. It was obvious to her that none of them had ever worked too closely with Marshall Mann. "Whatever you say, Marshall. Glad to see you're in one piece, after all."

He frowned at that. Then his eyes focused and he regarded her thoughtfully. In that moment, he seemed to work out why she hadn't changed on her way here: she'd been in a hurry. "You were worried."

Mary shrugged. "Midnight call. Someone yelling over the phone that you're being wheeled out of an ambulance. Some people need to learn not to panic so unnecessarily."

"You were _really_ worried," Marshall corrected, and this time he managed a grin before the knife wounds on his face protested.

"Keep that," she warned, "and I'll get _really_ annoyed."

"Oh no." He gasped in mock horror. "Not annoyed!"

She knew she was playing into his wish to downplay the situation with humor, but she still went along with it. "I know of ways to make you suffer," she told him. Slipping into the role of his grumpy partner was no hardship at all. "Don't tempt me to use them."

There was amusement in his eyes, but Marshall kept quiet.

After a moment of companionable silence, Mary spoke again. "I am glad you're not terribly deformed." _Or dead_. "I've gotten used to you being the pretty one when we're out."

"Only because you get to be the mean one."

She grinned. "Oh yeah."

Marshall eyed her for a long moment. "You're being too nice." It almost sounded like a complaint. "You'll be giving me hell about this evening as soon as I'm on my feet, won't you?"

"What, about going against all odds when you're on your own?" He _did_ know her well. "You bet, partner."

 

The End  
30/05/15


End file.
